I have recently shared my set of hobbies that I used to think were lame, but it turned out I simply wasn’t old enough to properly enjoy them. And now it is time to share one more guilty pleasure of mine slash healthy lifehack: homemade fermentation.

Yes, I know. One day you are laughing at people who own special jars. The next, you are standing in your kitchen at 11 pm, lovingly checking whether your cabbage is bubbling correctly. Life comes at you fast, and sometimes it smells faintly of garlic.

I have always been a fan of fermented products. From early childhood, a pickle was more dear to me than a cookie, and some crispy sauerkraut was, frankly, the best snack ever. Later on, I discovered Asian food and kimchi — hold me, I am a massive fan — plus many more glorious sour, crunchy, tangy things. But I never thought I would turn into my own grandmother and start bothering with fermentation myself.

And yet, here we are.

Fermented vegetables have been around since the mists of time, which is a poetic way of saying humans have always needed snacks that last longer than three days and make dinner less boring.

Fermentation is an ancient way of preserving food. During the process, microorganisms such as bacteria, yeast, or fungi convert sugars and starches into acids or alcohol. These act as natural preservatives and give fermented foods their distinctive strong, salty, slightly sour flavour. In other words, science steps in and says: “Relax, I will make this cabbage interesting.”

But the benefits aren't only about taste. Fermented vegetables are generally easier to digest because lactic acid bacteria partially break down the food for us. Very polite of them. For example, sauerkraut is often easier on the stomach than raw cabbage, because fermentation reduces some compounds that can cause bloating and digestive drama.

Fermented foods may also help support gut health because they can contain beneficial probiotic bacteria, while fibre-rich fermented vegetables can also act as prebiotics, feeding the good bacteria already living in your digestive system. The microbiota is often called the “second brain”, which sounds impressive until you realise yours is probably begging for less takeaway and more fibre.

There is more. Fermentation can increase the availability of certain nutrients, including iron and zinc, by reducing so-called anti-nutrients such as phytic acid. It can also help preserve vitamins, and in some cases even increase levels of certain nutrients. Some fermented foods may support immune function, heart health, and possibly even mood, although, as always, they aren't magic. They are vegetables, not a life coach.

Most importantly, they are delicious. Sauerkraut, kimchi, pickles, fermented peppers, carrots, radishes — all these tiny sour miracles can make a boring plate look like you have your life together.

The answer is simple: control.

When you buy fermented products, you don’t always know what exactly is inside. Sometimes there is more salt than anyone needs. Sometimes “fermented” gets confused with “marinated”, which is a different story. Marinated vegetables usually rely on vinegar. Vinegar tastes great, yes, but it doesn’t offer the same perks as natural fermentation, because it doesn’t create the same living bacterial process.

Natural fermentation doesn't need much: vegetables, salt, water, and a bit of patience. Very rustic. Very cottagecore. Very “I might start wearing linen and judging shop-bought pickles.”

Still, fermentation is a live process, and live processes have opinions. If some unwanted bacteria sneaks in from the air, dishes, or even a not-so-clean spoon, things can go in the wrong direction. And by “wrong direction”, I mean: congratulations, you are now growing mould, which wasn't the brief.

You can use a lot of salt to protect the product, but no one enjoys waking up the next day bloated and looking like they have been bitten by bees. This is why I use starter cultures.

Starter cultures help make the whole process more predictable, quick, and easy. They support natural lacto-fermentation and can help you get consistent, tasty, probiotic-rich results without turning your kitchen into a suspense thriller.

The starter culture I use is a synergistic blend of carefully selected strains, designed to optimise the fermentation process, support probiotic richness, improve taste and crispness, and generally make you feel like you know what you are doing. Which, in domestic hobbies after 30, is half the victory.

With starter culture, I usually use around 1–1.5 tablespoons of salt for a 750 ml jar, plus a dash of starter culture. This is a field for experimenting, but in my personal experience, 1 g is often enough.

Look at me casually discussing grams of bacteria. Personal growth.

Basically, everything.

Cucumbers, cabbage, radish, tomatoes, celery, courgette, onions, bell peppers, beetroot, carrots, lotus root, even champignons — although mushrooms should be blanched for a few minutes first. You can mix and match, add spices, and create your own little jarred universe.

My eternal favourite spice mix is fresh garlic plus a peppercorn mix. It works with almost everything and makes me feel like a tiny domestic witch, but instead of potions I create probiotic snacks.

This is why I call fermentation more of a hobby than cooking. Cooking has recipes. Fermentation has character development.

I already mentioned that I am a fan, so honestly, I just add them to my plate whenever I like.

But there are smarter options too. Sauerkraut is perfect in salads, and because it adds so much flavour, you can cut down on heavy sauces. Fermented bell pepper is brilliant with hummus. Pickles, carrots, cabbage, and onions can go into homemade wraps or rolls, making them so good that no street shawarma can enter the competition.

A few crunchy fermented vegetables can make the most basic meal feel intentional. Which is helpful when the meal is, in fact, whatever was left in the fridge plus hope.

The preparation usually takes around 20 minutes. You wash the vegetables properly, cut them into thin pieces, mix salt with starter culture, pack everything tightly into a clean jar, and make sure every bite is covered with clean drinking water. I use silicone caps under the lid to keep everything submerged.

Then you place the jar in a dark spot. In the morning and evening, open it to let the extra air escape. Poking it with a stick helps too, which is surprisingly satisfying.

After about 1.5 days, I put the jar into the fridge. Technically, it is ready by then, but I recommend leaving it for a couple more days in the fridge before eating. The flavour gets better, the texture settles, and you get to feel proud every time you open the door.

And that is it. Clean, cut, pack, wait, brag.

Maybe you will just say I am old. But I have a healthy gut, a low-calorie snack, and something to boast about around my friends who are obsessed with yet another board game.